Title: Hogwarts Vignettes: Flashbacks and Memories

Characters: Mostly Harry, Ron, and Ginny, mentions and a brief appearance of Hermione.

Disclaimer: I wrote this. I did not write the thing that inspired it.

A/N: Well, I have to say, this was one of my favorite chapters to write, even though I like Ron and Hermione more than Harry. I like Harry and everything... i just like the other two a bit more heh heh... Yeah, anyway, Harry, obviously, is the most invested in this place. And I thought, after the war, he would find one weird minor annoyance to have a problem with, as he tried to get himself excited to leave. Also, I hold the belief that Harry, Ron, and Hermione slept at Hogwarts the night (and day? probably most of it) of the battle, simply because it would be the cruelest thing in the world to make the poor things have to travel to the damn Burrow or Shell Cottage (even though I know they're only a fireplace away) when they have plenty of comfy beds right there. Also, I'm guessing their school friends all had a crazy ass party celebration, but there's no WAY they would be able to stay awake during that. I mean, the three of them were ready to pass out as soon as they got of that blind dragon. They were beat. Anyway, thank you so much for all of the reviews, I really do appreciate them. And I hope you enjoy this chapter. Another Hermione one is next!

"Harry's Bed"

As the sound of the alarm clock pierced the air, Harry Potter gingerly opened his eyes. A groggy moan came from his right and knew that his best friend had awoken as well. That's when he heard Ron Weasley turn over and mutter a spell under his breath. The clock shattered into a million pieces, its fragments spilling all over the floor.

"Ron," Harry sighed.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, flicking his wand again and repairing their clock. As Ron clumsily toppled out of bed, Harry reached for his glasses. A blinding pain shot down his neck, causing him to let out a slew of obscenities.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, taking a break from rummaging through his trunk for clothes to look at Harry.

"My neck is all messed up," Harry groaned, trying to massage it.

"Probably slept wrong," Ron said, stretching a bit.

"You and I both know that's not what happened," Harry croaked darkly, wincing as he sat up.

"Oh c'mon, Harry," Ron yawned. "Are you going to start that again?"

"Yes, I'm gonna start this again! This bloody bed is going to be the death of me," he growled, glaring at his friend. Ron rolled his eyes and vanished behind his curtains to change. "The springs are absolutely shot," Harry went on. "At this rate, I'll be a cripple by the time we graduate." Ron's bed curtains suddenly wrenched open and he emerged, fully clothed.

"Look at it this way, mate," Ron said reasonably. "Only one more week before you can set that thing on fire." Harry laughed, feeling a bit brighter. He headed for his trunk to get a change of clothes. Ron checked his watch. "Hurry up and get dressed already. I want to get some breakfast before Hermione begins our eight hour Charms review session," Ron said, looking annoyed at the thought of what Hermione had in store for them.

"Alright, alright," Harry chuckled, snatching his clothes and heading for bed. "Hold on a bloody minute." With that Harry jerked his curtains closed, and suddenly a rush of memories flashed before him, and his eleven year-old self was in his exact position, hiding behind his bed curtain.

"Hurry up, Harry! We're going to be late for our first class. We've already missed breakfast!" Ron Weasley was calling to him from the other side of the curtain. Harry nervously adjusted his tie. He had never consciously done magic before in his life! What if he was horrible at it? What if they kicked him out for having so little skill? "I'm really hungry… d'you want to split the rest of those Bertie Botts?" Ron asked. Harry smiled. He had never been more anxious in his life, but he had also never felt this happy. Sure, he had never practiced magic before, but he had never had a friend before either. And it was nice to have someone to go to class with, to share his food with. He had also never had a proper room before, like the expansive dormitory he shared with Ron and his fellow classmates. He had never had a real bed either. It was much more comfortable than that cot he had to sleep on in his cupboard at the Dursley's. It was so warm and inviting… it felt like home. Beaming, Harry tore open his curtains and greeted his freckly friend.

"Ready," he said, almost leaping off the bed. And he was.

Flash

Harry felt violated as he stared at the wreckage that was his part of the room. His trunk had been ransacked, his end table drawers rummaged through, and all of his clothes were strewn about. Hermione and Ron looked positively horrified as the examined the destruction. Harry looked at his feet; goose feathers from his pillow were lying at them like the remains of a gazelle after a lion attack.

"Who would do this?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head, feeling numb. He approached trunk, and looked through his scattered possessions.

"It doesn't look like they stole anything," Hermione pointed out, surveying the vast amount of objects on the floor.

"They did," Harry said, his stomach twisting into a knot. "Tom Riddle's diary is gone." Hermione gasped and Ron let out a surprised swear. Harry sank down onto his messy bed, clutching the sheets in his hands. This was all that he had, and despite the fact that a deranged yet masterful dark wizard was out to kill him, he never felt more vulnerable.

Flash

Harry was relieved to find Ron in much better spirits than he had been the previous night. That fight with Hermione after the Ball did not leave him in the best of moods as they were going to bed. But Ron seemed to be relatively cheerful as he tore open his presents; in fact, he seemed rather keen on pretending the whole thing never happened.

"Harry, one of your presents got mixed in with mine," Ron said, examining a small sack of Bertie Botts Ever Flavor Beans from Fred and George.

"Chuck it here," Harry said, setting down the penknife that Sirius gave him. Ron tossed it without paying much attention and the sack fell short. Harry leaned over the edge of his bed to fetch it, when he noticed an odd brightly colored stick. Bending down further, Harry noticed that it was plastic, painted burgundy red and black. After studying it silently for a moment he recognized what it was: the arm from Ron's Viktor Krum figurine. "Ron?" Harry began, staring at it in disbelief.

"Wha'?" he mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate frogs from Ginny. Harry hesitated.

"Er… work on your aim, mate. That was way off," Harry said, chuckling a bit, tossing the arm back under the bed. Ron snorted.

"Stuff it," he laughed, swallowing his food. Harry leaned back against his pillows, shaking his head. Something told him he did not want to get involved with whatever was going on between Ron and Hermione and Viktor Krum. He was perfectly content lying in bed, opening presents, cheerfully oblivious.

Flash

As Harry pulled his sheets over his shivering body, he noticed Ron was still sniggering as he set the alarm. Harry rolled his eyes and shot him what he hoped was an annoyed glance, but it only seemed to make Ron laugh harder. Harry sighed, turning away from his best friend, barely suppressing his own joy at what had transpired not two hours ago. Cho Chang had kissed him. He couldn't relive that glorious moment enough. Even though she was crying, it was better than he could have possibly imagined. As Ron turned the lights out, a huge grin unfurled on Harry's face. He slowly closed his eyes, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Snuggling up under his warm covers, he drifted into a quiet slumber.

Flash

Harry felt ready to keel over as he sank down onto his bed, he was so exhausted. Ron and Hermione were already fast asleep in Ron's bed, his arm draped protectively over her. Despite Hogwarts rules forbidding two members of the opposite sex sharing a bed, Ron had down-right refused to leave her side after all that they had been through that year. He wished Ginny was with him, but after losing Fred, he knew her parents needed her presence. After they had all been checked by Madam Pomfrey, and were deemed well enough to avoid a hospital stay, Professor McGonagall insisted they spend the night in their old rooms, as it was far too late and they were far too tired to make it back to the Burrow. He knew that while his fellow classmates were rejoicing downstairs, he needed to rest.

Harry kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. His entire body ached, and his brain was completely fried, but he had never felt better. He was finally safe, after seventeen years. Pulling up the covers, he realized he couldn't remember the last time he slept in an actual bed. It felt so good to lie on the soft mattress, to rest his weary head on the fluffy pillow, and to envelop his body in the toasty blankets. He was home, after a strenuous and taxing journey. Shutting his eyes, he cracked a tiny smile. For the first time in years, he knew that there was no danger of terrible nightmares entering his mind. Letting out a sigh of relief, he conked out, finally at peace.

Flash

Ginny Weasley was waiting impatiently for Harry as he dug through the contents of his trunk for his cloak.

"I told you, if you weren't such a mess, we wouldn't have these problems," she said, eyeing the clock. They were supposed to have left for their date in Hogsmeade twenty minutes ago, but Harry couldn't seem to find his cloak anywhere. He grinned at her, tossing another load of junk on his bed. That's when Ginny spotted an old photo album. Intrigued, she snatched it up, and began to examine its contents.

"Oh, you were such a cute baby," she laughed, studying a picture of Harry with his parents.

"'Course I was. I wasn't blind back then," he cracked, adjusting his glasses. Ginny snorted, and continued to flip through the book. Suddenly, she gasped.

"What in the name of Merlin is Ron doing?" she cried, looking both awed and amused. Harry joined her on the bed to get a look at the picture. Ron was struggling to remain calm as a Blast-Ended Skrewt crept towards him, a few different foods in his outstretched hand. Harry let out a bark of laughter.

"Oh yeah," he said. "That. Hermione, in an attempt to get him to study, bet him that he couldn't go one week without slacking off. If he won, she would have to do all of his homework for two weeks. If she won, though, Ron would have to volunteer to help Hagrid try to feed the Skrewts for a day… I think it's pretty obvious who won," Harry explained. Ginny burst out laughing. "I thought it was only right to get a few pictures commemorating it," he added, chuckling himself.

"I can't believe I missed this," Ginny groaned, after her laughing fit subsided.

"Oh, you should see what happens in the next one," Harry said excitedly. He flipped to the next page, where Ron was cowering behind a large pumpkin, the Skrewt's stinger pointed menacingly towards him. Ginny was hysterical again, as was Harry. "Hermione had to hit it with an Impediment Jinx to get him out of the pumpkin patch," Harry snorted. Ginny smiled, looking over at him wistfully.

"Harry… do you mind if we stay in tonight? I'd like to finish looking through this with you," she asked. Harry grinned at her.

"Of course we can," he said, and they leaned back against his pillow. As he watched Ginny look at the photos with fascination, he realized that laying in bed with her, laughing, was far better than any expensive dinner, or night on the town.

"Are you alive in there!?" Ron's voice shattered Harry's burst of memories. Coming to himself a bit, but still dazed, he hastily threw his clothes on. Ripping open the curtains, he grabbed his sneakers.

"Hold on," Harry cried, shoving his trainers on his feet. Ron tapped his foot impatiently.

"Finally," he said, as Harry finished tying his laces. "Let's go." Ron hurried out the door for breakfast, but Harry hung back for a second. Sliding his hand across the smooth sheets, he felt a bit melancholy. It wasn't such a bad bed, really. As he stood up, listening to the creaking of the springs, he felt a tug at his heart. He was going to miss it.